


A Pile Of Sand And Trees

by ABSedarian



Series: Thirty Worlds (AU Challenge) [12]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: AU - Deserted Island, AU Challenge, Challenge on Infinite Earths, F/F, deserted island, pretty much PWP (but with a smidgen of plot)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-06
Updated: 2015-06-06
Packaged: 2018-04-03 05:20:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,137
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4088443
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ABSedarian/pseuds/ABSedarian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU Challenge / Challenge on Infinite Earths</p><p>Day 12: Deserted Island</p><p>On their way back from Neverland, Emma and Regina are stranded on a deserted island. Alone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Pile Of Sand And Trees

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Not my characters.

Regina wakes up to somebody roughly shaking her body. She groans at the taste of something grainy and foreign in her mouth before she slowly opens her eyes. She’s lying face down on the ground, her lips kissing sand of some sort, and everything hurts. She slowly raises her head and spits out the dirt in her mouth, then turns to see who’s there with her. 

“Slowly,” comes a voice — scratchy, yet familiar — just as she winces in pain. A hand is there to steady her until she is sitting relatively upright in the sand and is able to look around. The first thing she sees is Emma Swan’s face, and her immediate thought is worry about how banged up she looks. Her hair is a tangled mess, her face bloody and dirty, and she can see some bruises all over her upper body, which is when she realizes that she can see more of Emma's body than was normal. 

Regina has to force herself to tear her eyes from the sight of Emma’s breasts through the wet fabric of her torn and dirty tank top. The last thing she needs right now is to get distracted by her attraction to the Savior. What she _needs_ to do is figure out what the hell happened to them. 

“Wha—“ she stops to clear her throat, tries again. “What happened?” It still comes out as a mere croak. She wonders how long she’s been out. 

“I was hoping you could tell me,” Emma replies, voice equally hoarse. Maybe they screamed a lot. 

Regina shakes her head, which causes the pain to flare up. “The last thing I remember is screaming at your mother about something stupid she said. Which doesn’t really clarify anything as her idiocy is a recurring phenomenon. But we were on the ship … on the way back from Neverland. There was a freak storm, I think … just before we jumped the portal … then nothing.” 

Emma nods, biting her lip. “Yeah, that’s about it. I remember thunder and lightning and Hook yelling something. Then everything is just black.” 

“What about … Henry? The others? Are they here as well?” She looks around in a sudden panic at the thought of her son, taking in her surroundings for the first time. “What the hell is this place anyway?” 

Emma looks shocked at hearing Regina swear. “I have no idea,” she says after a moment, and Regina takes it as an answer to all her questions for now. “I woke up a few minutes ago over there,” she points towards some palm trees about a hundred feet down the beach. “And then I saw you and you weren’t moving … and for a second there I thought you were dead.” Her voice cracks a little at the last word. 

Regina can’t read the face Emma makes and assumes it doesn’t mean anything good. “I’m sorry to disappoint.” 

Emma’s jaw drops as she stares at Regina for a few seconds. “You’re an idiot,” she finally manages, before standing and stomping away through the sand. 

Regina slowly gets to her feet, wondering what she’s done now. As soon as she’s on her feet, she realizes something is off. She feels empty somehow, and then her brain catches up to the feeling: she can't feel her magic. “Great,” she mutters, even as she still tries to heal her injuries. Unsurprisingly, nothing happens. With a sigh, she follows Emma, determined to see if Henry is here with them, hopefully safe and sound. 

Or better yet, safe in Storybrooke. 

o—o—o 

The next hours are uncomfortable. They manage a mostly silent walk around the whole island, which isn’t all that big, but all they find are a few planks of wood which could have come from any ship in the past few decades, and definitely look too old and weathered to be from a recent shipwreck. They tell each other that the Jolly Roger is fine, that Henry is fine, that they were the only ones who were thrown overboard by the storm. “If the two of us ended up here,” Emma says reasonably, “everybody else would have too.” 

Regina decides not to argue probabilities and worst-case scenarios, and chooses instead to believe in Emma’s words. It’s not as hard as she thought it would be. 

Turns out, it’s not even half as hard as making a fire without magic. 

Thus, the first night on the island is very uncomfortable because the temperatures drop rapidly as soon as the sun sets, and they’re both too stubborn and proud to seek out the other’s warmth. Also, Regina muses as she huddles in a corner of the lean-to they managed to cobble together, she’s not so sure she could take being that close to a half-naked Emma and not do something about it. 

She catches a longing look Emma shoots her, and wonders about it for a few minutes, the speculation taking her mind off the feeling of being so damn cold. In the end she decides it’s her blazer Emma eyes enviously, not her. 

o—o—o 

They both wake up cranky and hungry and cold the next morning, and snarling at each other is the familiar thing to do, no matter how much Regina actually wants to go and make Emma feel better. It would be for nothing, she knows, having seen Emma with Hook on Neverland. There’s nothing she can do about her feelings for Emma, but she also can’t just turn them off. She wishes she could just conjure up a fleece blanket for her for the cold nights, could just snap a fire into existence or present Emma with coffee and bear claws for breakfast. 

It takes her a few minutes to realize that the thought of healing her own injuries didn’t even cross her mind. It is that realization that tells her that her attraction to Emma might go deeper than she thought, and that a prolonged stay on this island was going to be torture. 

o—o—o 

Regina finds out that she’s surprisingly good at spearing fish in the shallow waters just off the island with the spear Emma makes for her. Her body is slowly feeling better but it’s not up to climbing palm trees and foraging in the woods for anything edible. Emma, however, is good at it, and even seems to enjoy it judging by the amount of time she spends away from their camp looking for food. 

Regina is not too unhappy about her absence as it allows her time to get her feelings under control. 

Emma somehow manages to make a fire that night, so they can actually cook the fish Regina caught. And when the fire dies in the middle of the night, they forget about pride and stubbornness and seek warmth by huddling close together. 

o—o—o 

Regina wakes up that second morning wrapped in Emma’s arms, her face pressed against Emma neck, and her hand cupping one of her breasts. Their legs are tangled together, Emma’s hand has a sure grip on her ass, and Regina can feel herself already wet from whatever dream she may have had but can’t remember. Emma moves in her sleep, pressing her thigh against Regina’s sex in the process, and Regina can feel herself getting wetter. 

Her groan wakes up Emma, who looks startled by their closeness and practically bolts from the mat they made from banana leaves. She mutters something about freshening up and runs. 

o—o—o 

This becomes a pattern over the next few days. They go to sleep next to each other with the fire still burning and wake up tangled in each other, hands in inappropriate places, their bodies moving together in the night. After a week of this Regina’s sexual frustration is at the point where she can’t take it any longer. 

As soon as Emma runs off to gather more food — something she’s doing more and more often as the days go on — Regina finds a quiet, secluded spot to relieve the pressure. She barely has to touch herself the first time before she comes with a small groan. The second time, immediately afterwards, is more languid, more about pleasure than tension, and when she comes, it is with Emma’s face on her mind and her name a sigh on red lips. 

o—o—o 

After a week, two things become very clear to Regina. One, that the Jolly Roger — and with it Henry and the two idiots — must have gone through the portal back to Storybrooke, which means she and Emma are stuck on this island for the foreseeable future. It took weeks for magic beans to grow, and that was if they could _find_ some to grow, and it would take Gold at least that long to come up with an alternative solution. 

And two, that Emma's trips into the forest become more frequent and take longer every day. 

Both realizations cause a twinge of sadness in her chest that doesn't go away for hours, and she doesn't leave their camp all day except to fish for their dinner. 

o—o—o 

On the ninth day of their forced cohabitation on this Godforsaken pile of sand and trees in the middle of a vast sea, Regina is bored out of her skull and decides to go for a swim on the other side of the island where she knows is a lovely lagoon that's not also her fishing spot. It wouldn't feel right to swim with her dinner, she tells herself as she trudges through the dense vegetation. 

She's halfway across the island when she hears a noise, a mix between a groan and a whimper. Her first thought is to run toward the sound because Emma might be in danger, but then the nuances of the sound settle in her brain, and she swallows hard. Of course, she muses, Emma must miss the pirate or the thief or, God forbid, both, and a little stress relief was always a good thing. 

She wants to leave the area as quickly as she can, wants to be as far as humanly possible from the painful proof that Emma is pining for somebody else, that Emma is taking care of something that Regina would love to do for her. 

But sound has an odd way of traveling in this coastal forest, and instead of sneaking away, Regina suddenly finds herself much closer to Emma, although she still can't see her. Close enough to hear Emma much more clearly, and if Regina had to judge from the sounds Emma is making, she'd say that the other woman is close to her climax. Regina swallows again, and she's sure her face is an alarming shade of red, as she peeks around a large tree trunk, feet rooted to the spot, just as Emma lets out a drawn-out groan that makes Regina's insides coil tightly. 

She can’t tear her eyes away from Emma in the throes of passion, fingers furiously working between her thighs, up and down and sideways, and her face a mix of what looks like pleasure and frustration, the same mix of emotions Regina feels every time she takes care of the ache between her legs. And then Emma comes, her back arching off the fallen tree she’s resting on, and Regina’s heart stutters, then races, then stops, when Emma lets out more than a groan. “Yes … God … Regina … yes … hnnnnnnng …” 

Regina is instantly aware of her almost painful arousal, but more than that the incredible lightness in her heart. She’s not alone in her attraction, her feelings, and before she can even finish that thought and what it means for them, her feet are carrying her towards Emma. 

Emma stares at her in shock, flushes in total embarrassment, jumps up to gather her clothes, but Regina is by her side before she can get far. And then Regina’s hands are buried in Emma’s hair and their lips are pressed together. 

Emma doesn’t react for a fraction of a second and Regina assumes it’s from the shock, not from lack of wanting, and she’s proven right when Emma starts kissing her back with everything she has. Regina hardly notices when her clothes vanish from her body as if by magic, proving that the sometimes klutzy Savior can be quite dexterous if properly motivated, giving Regina high hopes for what she assumes is going to happen. 

“You’re so beautiful,” Emma mutters against Regina’s skin once they part, softly nosing her cheek, her nose, her temple, her hair. 

“Emma.” Regina can’t hold back the sigh as she leans back in to capture Emma’s lips once more. This time, Emma returns the kiss without any hesitation, her hand roaming over Regina’s newly bared skin until Regina feels like there are trails of lightning racing over her body. Regina wants more, _needs_ more, so she gently pushes Emma back against the fallen tree until she’s sitting down again — Regina makes sure to place her on Emma’s clothes, which are still lying on the tree trunk — and Regina can step between her thighs. She leans over Emma, pressing her back into her former position with her kiss, her body, as she brings her thigh against Emma’s sex, which is glistening and still so wet from her previous orgasm. 

Emma wraps one leg around Regina’s hips and tugs her closer, causing them both to groan and buck helplessly. 

Regina wants to keep kissing Emma, thinks she could keep doing that for hours and days and months actually, but there’s so much else to discover, so she trails her lips down Emma’s neck, her breasts, her stomach. She can smell Emma’s arousal this close to the source, and it makes her head spin with desire. 

“God, Regina,” Emma moans as Regina’s lips travel closer and closer to where Emma needs her to be. 

“Good?” Regina can’t help but murmur against Emma’s bellybutton. 

“Wonder…ful.” Emma’s voice cracks as Regina nips at the taut skin of her belly, then soothes the spot with her tongue. Emma’s hands move to Regina’s hair, clenching and unclenching almost painfully, exerting gentle pressure to move Regina’s head further down. “Please touch me, Regina,” she breathes, voice needy. 

“I am touching you,” Regina counters, always contrary, but the fingers of her right hand run up the leg that’s curled around her hip, her nails leaving red trails in their wake. Emma keens and bucks her hips. Regina stills her hands and her mouth. “Talk to me, Emma,” she whispers against skin, her eyes finding Emma’s. “What do you want?” 

“I want you to touch me,” Emma repeats, whines really. 

“Where?” 

In a swift move, Emma grabs Regina’s hand and presses it against her wetness. “There.” 

Regina smirks, albeit a bit breathlessly, and presses her fingers slowly between Emma’s folds, tracing them lightly, then firmly, testing Emma’s responses. “Is that really all you want?” Regina asks when it looks as if Emma is getting closer to the edge. “Are you sure there’s nothing else I can do for you, Ms. Swan?” 

Emma’s hips buck harder at the question and the name, and Regina can hear her swallow even over the sound of the island all around them. “Mouth,” she rasps, “I want your mouth on me.” 

Regina rewards her with a searing kiss that Emma returns vigorously. They kiss for long moments, getting lost in each other, before Regina begins her long, slow trail down the gorgeous body to where Emma has asked her to be. 

Her tongue glides between Emma’s folds, retracing her fingers’ steps, learning the contours again, all senses completely attuned to Emma and her reactions, the groans and breathy little moans that let her know what works well, and what works even better. She delves into Emma’s entrance, pushes in as far as she can, enjoying the taste and feel, wondering if it would be wrong to do this all day, every day. 

The hands in her hair clench rhythmically now, letting her know this is as good for Emma as it is for her. Regina draws back a little, moves up, and lightly runs her tongue over Emma’s clit before clamping her lips around the swollen hub of nerves and tonguing it with quick strokes. Emma lets out a long wail which might have been a derivation of Regina’s name, so she intensifies her ministrations. 

“Inside,” Emma begs hoarsely. “I need you inside … fingers … please …” 

Regina for once does as she is asked and enters Emma with one finger, then two when she realizes how wet Emma is for her. “You’re so wonderfully receptive,” she murmurs, “so wet, so open.” 

“Already came … twice … before …” Emma manages between moans. Her body is covered in a sheen of sweat, and Regina thinks she’s never seen a more beautiful sight. “Thinking of you.” 

“Of me?” Regina heard it, but still she has to ask. 

“Al…ways,” Emma admits, interrupted by a breathy moan as Regina hits a spot that makes her arousal jump another notch. 

Regina returns her full attention to Emma’s clit while pushing her fingers in and out, corkscrewing them a little every time, relishing in the feeling of Emma’s muscles clamping down on them. She knows Emma is close, can feel it, can recognize the pitch of her moans, so she pulls the clit between her lips and sucks, pushing her fingers in as hard and fast as she can at the same time. 

Emma comes with a yell that causes a few birds to squawk in protest and fly off. Regina smiles happily against Emma as she slows her lips, her fingers, her tongue, guiding Emma through her orgasm. 

“God, Regina,” Emma rasps after long moments, when her breathing has calmed a little. “Why haven’t we been doing this for years?” 

Regina rests her chin against Emma’s pubic bone and still manages to look up at her with a sardonic smirk. “I could start listing the reasons but I don’t think we have enough time for them all.” 

Emma pulls Regina up and into a kiss that starts out far more loving than passionate, a promise for the future, but it quickly turns demanding and fiery. Emma pushes up from her position, determined to have her chance to make Regina scream and moan for her, but only manages to land them both on the sandy forest ground with a dull thud. Emma has the presence of mind to look for Regina’s discarded clothes and moves them both there before focusing on Regina and her pleasure in earnest. 

o—o—o 

The month until they’re rescued flies by after that, and they agree that if they both weren’t missing their son so damn much, it would have been the perfect vacation, forced or not. 

**The End**


End file.
